Keep Breathing
by Val-Creative
Summary: Ash makes it to the airport somehow and Eiji senses him. /Canon AU. Episode 24 Fix-It. Oneshot.


**.**

 **.**

Blood patters onto the tiles, soundless, leaving crimson-red streaks underneath his shoes.

(This is the same as entering and exiting the public library: Nobody notices him.)

Ash glances blearily around the entrance-way of the terminal, reaching underneath his white trench-coat and clutching over his gash of a stab-wound. It's starting to open up further and leak again, darkening his sweater and making the thin, wiry-soft fabric like adhesive to his flesh.

He's never bothered to surrender to pain or a means of defeat, no matter how it has tried to be inflicted him, and keeps himself awake now due to the _edge_ it is giving Ash, leveling his concentration.

Lao is dead, left on the sidewalk. The taxi driver who got him here in a little under fourteen minutes peered outright at Ash's blood-slick fingers and didn't bring up the subject, cranking on the evening-time radio. And there's a plane ticket and Eiji's letter crumpled up, smeared red in Ash's coat pocket.

And no time left.

" _Eiji_ …"

 **.**

 **.**

A long, drawn-in breath. Eiji wrinkles his nose and squints out the airplane-window, rubbing uncomfortably hard over his lower right side. Something's wrong. He doesn't think the doctors operated there.

They've all been delayed for nearly an hour with plenty of complaints around him and muttering. An infant bawls high-pitched several rows behind him and Ibe. One of the women ahead of them huffs and bickers noisily with her husband about a backyard party and _Tiffany Manchent, that slutfaced whore!_.

He tunes out the other passengers. The low, hum of machinery and Eiji's own heartbeat. What feels like an invisible and persistent pull rears up, deep inside him, urging him to get up and walk.

" _Ash_ …" Eiji murmurs, coming to a slow, horrifying realization.

"Hm?" Ibe perks up, turning to him. His dark eyes mirthful. "What was that, Ei-chan?"

This is what all Ibe ever wanted since he took his photos needed for the magazine article — for him and Eiji to go home in one whole piece. To return to Japan, far away from this, _all_ of this. There are no such loose laws on guns or juvenile criminals where they're from. And Eiji hates to further disappoint Ibe after they managed to escape with their heads. That's never what _he_ wanted for his mentor.

"Bathroom. I gotta use the bathroom really quick."

Eiji lifts himself out of his seat immediately, faltering and gasping loudly as a red-hot stretch of agony overtakes him. His knees tremble. "Careful, you're still injured from everything," Ibe scolds him, hurrying onto his feet and grasping onto Eiji's shoulders. "Let me—"

"—I'll be okay, I promise." Eiji regains control of himself, brushing away Ibe's hands and nodding to the middle-front of the plane. Trying to sound cheerful. He's not that great of a liar. "It's right up here."

"Stubborn, aren't you?" A fair-skinned woman on the other side of the row. She lowers her mobile phone and watches them in unmistakable amusement through her oversized, tortoiseshell glasses. "I'll walk him, if that's alright," she offers, gesturing for Eiji's hand and helping him maneuver into the aisle sympathetically. "The head stewardess should know if your boy has any medical conditions while we're held up."

 _Damn it._

Eiji whispers something grateful, using her show of friendliness as an excuse to look away from Ibe. She wraps an plump, lightly freckled arm to his, chattering on about her own grown-up son and their flights together during the holidays — and once he's within reach of the cabin-door, Eiji harshly nudges her sideways, tripping into the wall, and then managing to scramble to escape.

"Don't, Eiji!" Ibe shouts, frozen in place as he vanishes into the jet-bridge. " _No_!"

It seems like none of the personnel lingers in the waiting area. Or overheard the commotion. Eiji keeps running, wheezing and not daring to think of anything else. Something's very, very wrong.

 **.**

 **.**

They've probably already taken off.

Ash considers this, shuddering involuntarily, holding over his wound still and blinking out the perspiration from his eyes. He heads for the escalators, over the the baggage claim and rolling towards the juice-bar. His vision blurs. He feels himself collapsing and then steadies, grabbing onto the escalator-belt.

But would Eiji have left?

He told Eiji to go. Multiple times. There had to have been a point where Eiji thought Ash was being absolutely serious. _Fuck_. Ash only meant it if Eiji was in too much danger. If he couldn't protect Eiji on his own stomping grounds, but… Eiji wanted to protect _him_. Nobody ever told Ash that before.

Nobody has ever loved him so unconditionally and honestly that it all felt like a dream.

The jade-green in Ash's eyes brightens, moistening, until he shuts them.

 _Eiji_ … …

 **.**

 **.**

There it is again. The pull from inside Eiji.

"Ash!" Eiji bellows out, wincing, staring around at the gate. One or two people stare back as he spins around, confused, muttering to each other or avoiding eye-contact. "Ash!"

 **.**

 **.**

" _Ash_!"

 **.**

 **.**

"Eiji!" he calls out, Ash's pulse flying up into the back of his mouth.

From across the inner terminal, Eiji meets his gaze and dashes towards him, his face too-pale and splotched with a heated, ugly flush. Ash hardly notices bumping into another person as he runs too, staggering and crashing onto his hands and knees as Ash's legs go fully dead-weight.

Ash's name hollers out of Eiji's throat, mingling dismay and concern and wonder. Everything greys out, darkening in the corners of his eyes. Ash reaches out blindly for him, panting.

Their fingertips fall short of touch-contact, like before. Eiji completely passes out to the ground.

And wherever he goes, Ash _must_ follow, the whites of his eyes rolling.

 **.**

 **.**

" _Ash_ —"

Fading back to consciousness snaps him upright. Eiji wipes under his nasal cannula, looking around frantically at the blank white walls of a hospital room. No other bed in sight.

Ibe fusses, getting up from his chair and pressing on Eiji's arm. "Calm down, Eiji."

"You two…" Charlie sighs, observing from the doorway.

"Where is he? Where's Ash?"

"You need to stay _calm_. You tore your stitches and worried everyone sick. Take a deep breath," Ibe orders, his brows furrowing together. A twinge of guilt settles in Eiji's chest. He does as told, repeatedly, eventually relaxing his facial muscles and upper body. "Ash is… _well_ , right now…"

"He's in critical condition," Charlie interrupts the seemingly now awkward Ibe. "Ash lost a lot of blood and hasn't woken up yet." Eiji's hands curl in, tightening. "That's all we know."

Both men hesitate when Eiji suddenly bends over himself, chewing down on his lips, pushing his hands roughly over his face, as if punishing himself. He sobs silently until Eiji's body quivers and gasps irregularly for air. " _This is my f-fault_ … _I shouldn'y have_ … …"

Charlie grunts, eyeing Ibe and digging around for a cigarette.

"Rest up, kid."

 **.**

 **.**

As soon as they remove the IV and his oxygen tubes, Eiji sneaks out in the middle of the night.

For him, it has been almost four days of recovery. Ibe and Charlie, and even Max who pops in for a visit, has said _nothing_ about Ash. He needs something — _some_ glimpse of him or a sign that he's alright.

There's no keycard for this area of the hospital wing, which worries Eiji enough as it is. Being paranoid feels justifiable at this rate. He carefully ducks down past the security quarters, minding his newly taut stitches. Ash lies out on a much larger hospital bed surrounded by whirring and beeping equipment, deeper into the building, but with no sterile curtains. His hair limp, a paler and dustier yellow under the florescent lighting.

Eiji clasps a hand over his own mouth, wide-eyed. _Breathe_.

 _In_.

"… Ash?" he exhales, approaching the other young man. No response. "Ash, wake up," Eiji tries again, more forcibly, grabbing hold to the side-railing to Ash's cot.

One of the nurses barges in, frowning.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be in here—!"

Eiji whirls around, protectively sticking out his arm, using himself as a human block between her and Ash. He glares wordlessly as she tuts, clicking her tongue sharply and marching out. Probably to find someone bigger and more trained to kick him _out_ of this section. Like hell.

"Ash, please wake up. You have to wake up!" Not even a slight facial twitch from him. Eiji _hates_ this. He can't make himself admit that so easily, to hate anything, but Eiji _hates_ feeling this way. Having to glimpse down on Ash's severely injured and comatose body, and unable to do anything about it. "I don't know what happened, and I don't blame you, but… _why_ …" Eiji murmurs, creasing his brow, "… why didn't you come to see me? Not to even say goodbye? Did you even _think_ about it?"

His voice shakes, breaking with emotion.

"Ash!" Eiji yells down on him, staring grief-stricken and anger. His legs lower, barely covered by the spring-blue gown. He kneels down, gripping the side-rail with both hands. " _Ash_ …"

"Ei… _ji_."

Jade-green eyes flutter open. Eiji chokes out a sob, pressing his forehead heavily against the steel. Hot tears streaming down Eiji's face. "Thank god," he whispers. "Thank god…"

 **.**

 **.**

Too much sunlight.

Ash wakes up, gradually and numbed out, contorting his expression. "Well, well, Sleeping Beauty has finally decided to join us," his nurse says dryly, smoothing the front of her uniform.

" _Whrrss_ …" he slurs out, rubbing his fingers over his eyelids. Fuck, what a headache.

She hurrumphs, pouring him a glass of ice water on the tray-stand within Ash's reach. Excessively loud. "Your little boyfriend has been stirring up quite a bit of trouble for us, you know… even if he's a cute one. Seems nice otherwise. You must have lucked out big time, punk."

At this, he releases a quiet snort and gestures offhandedly to her with his cup, Ash's lips visibly smirking around the metallic-tasting rim. Amen to that.

"Where's Eiji?"

"I told Doctor Marklo to keep you in separate wings but no, _no_ , don't listen to Gracie," the nurse blabs, scowling and fanning out the blankets. "I've only been working with the patients since before—"

Ash's right hand chucks out, sloshing water and melting onto the tray. He narrows his eyes broodingly.

" _WHERE_ … is Eiji?"

She folds her arms, unimpressed by his temper tantrum. That's when Eiji bursts in on a pair of crutches, wearing the same hue of washed-out green for a hospital gown on Ash. He smiles, big and brilliant, and calls out Ash's name, hobbling over. Ash's entire demeanor changes, from baffled to a mellow, affectionate relief, spreading his arms for Eiji to topple up against him, practically in Ash's lap.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Eiji declares, slinging his arms loosely to Ash's neck.

Ash takes a moment to examine him, gently mapping over Eiji's sides and his upper chest. He couldn't get to _see_ Eiji in the other downtown hospital after he was shot. Not like he desperately wanted to.

"I was so worried… Ash, I didn't know where you were."

There's a kind of profound and devastating sadness in Eiji's gaze that doesn't belong there. He deserves to be happy. More than anything, _anyone_. Ash lowers his eyes. "It felt so real," he mumbles. "Going to the place I felt safe. I laid my head down and went to sleep. But I didn't wake up."

Eiji tilts his head. Of course he doesn't know what Ash means.

"But you're here, Ash," Eiji insists, smiling, his thumbs brushing lightly under Ash's earlobes. A _nice_ and warm sensation rises up Ash's gut. "With all of us. I'll never leave you again."

"That's… pretty ballsy…"

Ash knows saying this is a piss-poor attempt to lighten the mood, chuckling, and doesn't regret it failing spectacularly when their noses graze together, Ash's hands framing Eiji's pink-tinged cheeks.

"Even if you did… I would wait," Eiji murmurs, grinning and yet somber. "Forever if I had to. Like before."

The inside of Ash's throat closes up.

" _Eiji_ …" Ash mutters this, burying his face into Eiji's shoulder-joint, pouting and sniffling, mopping his wrist furiously over his damp eyes.

He doesn't have to.

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 _Banana Fish isn't mine. I LOVE,,,, THE REAL CANON ENDING. YEP. I worked on this all day yesterday so please take my garbage. My happy garbage. I just want my boys together and I like this one a lot more than the one I previously written. Just because it literally fits event better and sounds more like them. This is a surprise for glove23, misstchotcke, and jenarys who have been so emotionally supportive through me watching this anime. Love you guys! And to all the readers here: any thoughts/comments you have are so welcome! How are you feeling about this series finale? Cry it out, man. Cry it out._


End file.
